


terror executable

by xRinsexRepeatx



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Cannibalism, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:01:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26183110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xRinsexRepeatx/pseuds/xRinsexRepeatx
Summary: @terror_exe: harry goodsir/henry collins, non-linear narrative, college profs au, cannibalism, HMS Terror
Relationships: Henry Collins/Harry D. S. Goodsir
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16
Collections: @terror_exe Flash Fest





	terror executable

* * *

*

Harry was almost sleeping, sated, warm, when Henry spoke.

"Do you think they're still out there?"

He knew what Henry meant. There was little else Henry talked about, these days.

They both had their pet topics.

"Their supplies couldn't last. They'd be starving."

Henry pondered this for a moment. Then;

"Do you think they're writing letters?"

*

The dissection hall echoed empty, a theatre for Harry's voice to fill. This was his stage. Henry was his adoring audience.

"There are ways to survive," he said. His hand hovered over the tray of gleaming instruments, before his fingers enveloped the shaft of a scalpel. "There is always something to eat, wherever men find themselves."

*

They were sitting at the kitchen table, knees knocking and robes pulled tight against the autumn chill seeping in through the cracks in the window frame. Henry was reading the paper, steaming cup of tea in hand.

"Did you see this? They're looking for those arctic exploration ships. The Erebus and the Terror. Four years, they've been away."

That was the first time.

*

All Henry did was imagine, these days. _Can you imagine?_ he'd say, fingering the spine of one of his poetic volumes, _can you imagine being lost in ice, the horizon bleeding together like there's no way out? Would it feel too large, like the air was rushing out? Or too small, like living in a snowglobe?_

Harry would offer an apparent non-sequitur in turn, like; _the geneaology of greek mythology is quite fascinating. Chaos was the all-father, and Erebus, or darkness, one of his sons, who in turn sired Thanatos, Hypnos, Nemesis._

Henry would smile at him, far away, consumed. Harry would smile back.

_Names mean things_ , Henry would say to their little study. _Decent names for warships aren't right when going looking for the end of the world._

*

"Raw meat can treat most nutritional deficiencies. Particularly the organs. Brains, kidney. Liver."

The morsel looked slippery between Harry's bloodstained fingers, glistened in the flickering light. He's picked it out especially for Henry, and held it out like an offering. Henry leaned forward, let Harry pass the bite the final distance past his lips, and made sure he left not a single drop behind.

The meat felt soft on his tongue, smooth. He pressed his teeth into it. Harry's smile was gentle as he let his thumb linger on Henry's lower lip, following the movement of his jaw with index and middle finger resting against it.

*

Harry knew all about the limits of man. How many pounds of pressure that collapses a ribcage. How many days he can go without sleep, water, food. There were charts and data, addendums for special circumstance. His field was a science, precise, well chartered since Aristoteles.

Henry submerged himself in poetry, wrote beautiful essays about their meanings as if he knew the mind of the poet better than he knew himself. Harry absorbed what he wanted to know; Henry _became_ it. It was beautiful. If there was somewhere Henry was wanting to go, what could Harry do but help him on his way?

They were opposites. They were the same.

*

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are love <3
> 
> (I did write a [much more coherent](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25428880) collins/goodsir fic at one point)


End file.
